


Cygnus X-1

by ApostateDreams



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, Eventual Smut, Friendship, Hugging, Kissing, Listening to Music, Love, M/M, Nerds in Love, Newt POV, Slice of Life, Song Lyrics, abundant amounts of fluff, happiness, mlm author, science cuties
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2018-05-17
Packaged: 2019-05-03 07:12:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14563755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ApostateDreams/pseuds/ApostateDreams
Summary: Newton and Hermann bond over music, among other things.





	1. punk rock

**Author's Note:**

> Cygnus X-1 is a black hole in the constellation of Cygnus. The constellation itself is colloquially known as ‘the swan’ and includes the asterism ‘the northern cross’. Cygnus X-1 is one part of a high-mass x-ray binary system whose other part is the blue supergiant star HDE 226868.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, thanks for clicking through and reading. Hope you enjoy.

Yesterday Hermann all but bit Newt’s ears of with his criticism of Newt’s musical tastes. Or was he criticizing the decibel level? Probably both, which Newt finds hilarious because for one thing, his taste in music is all aces. Hermann is just a square who refuses to appreciate anything awesome. For another thing, Newt is pretty sure that Hermann shouted louder than the stereo was playing in the first place, which Newt made sure to helpfully point out to him. Hermann became even more pissed off after that for some reason. Also, to top it all off, when their squabble died down he did not even accept Newt’s offer to hug it out. What a grumper.

Today though, Newt has a plan. He thinks it probably is not the best of plans, but the instant it came to mind he felt compelled to do it anyway.

As Newt slouches at his desk in the K-science lab and types up a report for Pentecost on his laptop, he gently pokes his nearby stereo’s ‘On’ button with his left pinky whilst continuing to type with his right hand. The speakers emit a crackling whisper, so low that he cannot even identify what song is playing. Satisfied, Newt resumes typing with both hands, and then repeats the process about ten minutes later. However, this time he flicks the stereo’s volume button, discreetly turning it up from 1 to 2.

When Newt manages to get the stereo volume up to level 5 following this formula, he chances a glance across the lab at Hermann, who still studiously pecks away at his overlarge chalkboards with stubby pieces of chalk.

‘ _Oh my god he’s really not noticing_ ’, Newt thinks triumphantly. ‘ _Slow introduction of stimuli for the win!_ ’.

Thus, the musical experiment continues, until Newt happily sings along to ‘Clash City Rockers’ by The Clash at a wholesome, healthy volume of 11. By now the noise from the speakers vibrates the empty coffee mugs on his desk a bit; it’s loud, but not really _loud_ loud.

“ _And I wanna move the town to the Clash city rockers--!_ ” He sings, off key, but whatever. “ _You need a little jump—_ AGh!”

Newt yelps as his swivel chair is jarringly yanked around 180-degrees, he gets spun and ends up face to face with Hermann. Well, not exactly face to face, as Newt must tilt his head back and gaze upward to meet the other man’s eyes from his sitting position.

Hermann typically is about as intimidating as a wet cat, which is to say that he is funny looking and irritable, but ultimately harmless. Yet right now he looms over Newt, who slumps in his chair with his limbs splayed from being jerked around, and he is rather the imposing figure. Newt trembles, and forgets to brace himself.

“What on Earth do you think you’re doing!?” Hermann demands at top volume. Usually it takes a bit of back and forth for their arguments to become this shouty, but Newt supposes that Hermann started off screaming to ensure he would be heard over the music.

“Uh. I’m jamming out, dude.” Newt straightens up and gestures back towards the stereo with one of his thumbs.

He is not even sure if Hermann heard what he said, but whatever is surmised from Newt’s response clearly added to his displeasure, for he roars, “My question was rhetorical! Turn that off this instant!”

“You were cool with it five minutes ago!” Newt objects.

“I do not care what you think I was doing five minutes ago! Right now I can hardly work with you creating nuisances!”

“How about you try enjoying a little music instead of wallowing in the silence of the grave for once?!”

This apparently is the wrong response, for Hermann stiffens and his right hand tightens on his cane whilst his left hand clenches into a fist.

“This god forsaken ‘dome will become our grave if you do not spare us all from that racket you call ‘music’ and allow me to get some work done!” He screams back, and then turns heel and yanks the stereo’s plug from its outlet.

The silence that follows reveals the tinnitus in Newt’s brain as Hermann turns back, scowling crookedly. Newt responds by glaring and crossing his arms over his chest like a fractious youth.

“What?” Newt snaps when Hermann makes no move to return to his side of the lab.

“You owe me an apology.”

“Th- Wait- _What_?” Newt stammers, uncrossing his arms and whiffing his fingers through the air confusedly. “ _You’re_ the one who just crossed the line and unplugged _my_ stereo. Why don’t you apologize?!”

“Me?!” Hermann seems to be approaching peak outrage. “You really are an ingrate. An ingrate who enjoys blasting away at his eardrums with that- that-” He motions towards the stereo on Newt’s desk disdainfully. “-caterwauling nonsense.”

“ _Caterwauling nonsense_? Seriously?” Newt starts. “If you’d just give it a chance—”

“There is absolutely nothing in your musical library worth ‘giving a chance’.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes really.”

A smile quirks the corners of Newt’s lips despite himself. “Challenge accepted.”

**=+=+=+=+=+=**

In spite of the heat of their fight, a few hours later, well into the evening, when Newt tentatively crosses the line on the floor and approaches Hermann at his hologram computer display, he does welcome his offer of a hug.

“Uhm, Hermann?” Newt interrupts him as gently as he can. Irrationally nervous that he might be shooed away should he make himself overly obtrusive.

Hermann swivels his chair about and meets Newt’s eyes as he removes his reading glasses. “Yes?”

“I was…wondering if I could have a hug?” He says hopefully, extending his arms a little, inviting.

To Newt’s sheer delight, Hermann’s expression softens, and though he does not smile, his eyes do crinkle at the corners in that happy way of his. “Oh, Newton, of course.”

A goofy grin splits Newt’s face as he leans down to hug Hermann in his chair, wrapping his arms around him and spreading his palms over his shoulder blades. He slots his head right at the juncture of Hermann’s neck and shoulder, sighing contentedly. Hermann radiates warmth through his layers of frumpy clothing, and the two of them fit together so nicely, and no matter how close Newt gets he always wants to be closer. Hermann’s arms come up behind him and he spreads his long fingers across his lower back, applying firm pressure like he wants to be closer as well.

Hugging Hermann is definitely one of Newt’s favorite parts of the day, and he makes sure to hug him every day, as many times as Hermann will allow. Usually this occurs in the privacy of one of their rooms though. It is rare that Hermann will welcome a hug in the lab, but that mostly has to do with Newt frequently gunking himself up with kaiju fluids.

At this point Newt rubs slow circles into Hermann’s back with one of his palms, feeling the knobby bumps of his vertebrae through his clothing. He turns his head to the side and sneaks in some kisses upon the smooth strip of skin above Hermann’s shirt collar, pressing his lips feather-light at first and then more firmly when he does not immediately protest or flinch away. In fact, Hermann’s fingers flex where they are over Newt’s lower back, and he feels his blunted nails briefly as he fists the white fabric of his shirt. He pulls Newt even closer, increasing the pressure of their embrace.

“God, Herms, do you know that you’re the best hugger ever?” Newt asks against the other’s skin.

“’Best ever’ implies an awfully large sample size to be hugging.” Hermann returns.

“I don’t need to hug anyone else to know that nothing beats this.”

Hermann retreats from the hug then, much to Newt’s disappointment. Yet before his spirits plummet too far, Hermann reaches up a little and kisses him. The kiss is soft and closed-mouthed, chaste, like Hermann feels unsure whether or not Newt wants to be kissed.

Well, the joke is on him, because Newt always, always, _always_ wants Hermann to kiss him.

In an instant, Newt eagerly leans down into the kiss, grabbing Hermann desperately as though attempting to combine their bodies through osmosis. His breaths come in puffs through his nose as he sucks Hermann’s lower lip into his mouth, and strokes his hands down his back before pushing them up under his blazer.

Hermann gasps and trembles, melting into Newt’s touches.

“Mmph- Aah- Newton-!” The words are breathy and cut short by Newt’s mouth pressing to his. “Perhaps we… We shouldn’t-”

“Shouldn’t what?” Newt asks, dragging his wet mouth against Hermann’s cheek to suck on the tender spot beneath his earlobe.

“Be getting this _intimate_ in the presence of security cameras. And don’t you dare give me a hickey where anyone and everyone can see it."

Newt wonders at the hoarseness in Hermann’s voice, the vibrations of which he can feel where he presses his lips to his throat. Just how does Hermann manage to sound both indignant and totally wrecked in the same breath? It’s certainly one of the many sexy mysteries about him.

Yet, regardless of Hermann’s mysterious sexiness, Newt knows when to summon the iota of decorum that he possesses, and pulls back.

Even so, he assures, “Y’know, last time I passed by the security room the guys in there were using one of the monitors to play old Playstation games. I doubt they’re ever watching our makeout sessions.”

Hermann rolls his eyes, and removes his hands from Newt’s hips to straighten his rumpled blazer and shirt collar.

“In any case, Newton, I hope that you’ll try to understand my preference for limiting our, er, amorous activities to the bedroom.”

“Oh I know, but you were kinda the one who kissed me just now.” Newt accuses jokingly.

A faint pink blush blooms across Hermann’s perfect cheekbones, and he eschews eye-contact, taking a sudden interest in staring at an ink stain on Newt’s shirt pocket. “After you said…what you said about hugging, I couldn’t quite…” He trails off into a mumble.

“Hmm? What was that?” Newt rocks forward on the soles of his boots, trying to catch Hermann’s eyes again. He knows fully well that he is being a little imp, but the temptation to cause Hermann’s blush to spread is overwhelming.

Evidently the blood vessels in Hermann’s face do not disappoint, for he readily blushes harder. The pink tint shows through his cheeks down to the fair skin of his neck, and Newt knows from experience that his chest undoubtedly sports the lovely hue as well. Even his ears are pink.

“I couldn’t _not_ kiss you-” Hermann blurts out. “Especially after you said such sweet things.” He ends in a murmur.

“Awwe, Hermann…” Newt croons and bridges the gap between them to press their foreheads together. “You’re so sappy and adorable underneath all your prickly onion layers.”

“I am nothing of the sort, especially not a prickly onion.” Hermann denies dryly, though he keeps his forehead pressed to Newt’s.

“Dude, you are the prickliest onion.”

Hermann sighs through his nose as though he is the most put upon man in the world. Yet when he turns his gaze up to Newt’s finally, his eyes are warm and fond.

“Am I still welcome in your quarters tonight?” He inquires suddenly.

Newt finds it absolutely endearing that even after months of nonstop sleepovers in one or the other’s respective rooms, that Hermann still finds it necessary to clarify that he is indeed invited whenever they plan to sleep in Newt’s room. He finds this so endearing, in fact, that he bursts into a fit of giggles right then and there, and must scoot backward to mush his hands over his face in an attempt to muffle them.

“Y-you are, you definitely are.” Newt manages to get out in between giggling. “I mean, I c-could even be doing something stupid and embarrassing and you’d still be welcome.”

“Well that’s good to know, considering the percentage of time that you devote to such activities.” Hermann grumbles and turns his attention back to the hologram computer.

Newt watches him slide his dorky reading glasses back on, and notes with mirth that his wonderful, adorable, perfect, prickly-onion boyfriend is still blushing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song(s) mentioned: ‘Clash City Rockers’ by The Clash
> 
> Originally my intent was to have this all in one long chapter, but I like it better broken into three chapters.
> 
> I actually have yet to see the second Pacific Rim movie, so this was written with only the first movie in mind.


	2. prog rock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Salutations! Thank you for returning to read chapter two, and thank you for the wonderful comments, kudos, and bookmarks on chapter one. I am touched by how supportive the Ao3 community and PR fandom are.
> 
> This isn’t beta-read, so all mistakes and general awkwardness are mine. If I don’t get points for a job well done, at least I get points for trying. Let me know what you think in the comments.

Of the two scientists, Hermann ends up remaining in the lab later, so Newt decides to take it upon himself to grab them each something to eat. The Shatterdome’s official evening mealtime has passed, but the mess hall usually keeps some leftovers out for any stragglers.

The leftovers tonight are pizza. This is Newt’s favorite food, one of them at least. Hermann always insists that he does not like pizza, but Newt thinks that he simply has failed to find the _right_ pizza. So he makes sure to encourage Hermann to begrudgingly try it every time it is on the menu, before ultimately giving up and making him cup-ramen instead. However, when Newt crosses the near-empty mess hall and approaches the still-warm slices, he realizes that this pizza could not possibly be right for anyone at all ever. It has jalapenos on it. Who in their right mind willingly eats such a capsaicin-filled nightmare? Everyone else must have already grabbed the yummy slices.

Unfortunately, late to mess means limited choices. At least there remains some of the blue gelatin Newt likes. He grabs extra of that, and a cup of fruits for Hermann, who hates gelatin like the picky eater that he is. He also grabs a packet of assorted vegetables and peanut butter for them to share. The blue gelatin sustains a strange allure; Newt enjoys pretending that it is special kaiju gelatin and that eating enough of it will grant him cool kaiju powers, but no one needs to know that.

Back in the confines of his bedroom, Newt stores all the food in the mini refrigerator for safekeeping until Hermann arrives, and then boots up his desktop computer. He did not forget his self-imposed challenge: find some music in his digital library that Hermann will deign to give a chance. He has thousands of songs saved onto an external hard-drive reserved exclusively for music. There must be _something_ destined to be Hermann-approved amongst all of that. Newt rigs his computer to randomly shuffle through the songs on the external hard-drive, dials up the volume, and then turns to the rest of his room with critical eyes.

The bed exhibits an unmade tangle of blankets that hang halfway off the mattress; there are books, journals, and paper-packets strewn about; toys and knickknacks and half-done projects propagate every available surface, including the floor; and the clothes dresser looks like a bomb went off inside of it. This will not do, nope. It actually is a good thing Hermann opted to stay later in the lab, because that affords Newt some time to transform his space into less of a hazardous disaster.

As Newt cleans, he carefully considers every song that plays through his computer. So far none of them seem like anything Hermann will appreciate. As much as Newt loves the Sex Pistols, he has to admit that they are not Hermann’s cup of tea. Neither is Green Day, or the Runaways…

The song ‘Pretty Vacant’ fades to conclusion as Newt kicks the last of some discarded clothing under his bed, and the next one that comes on…he cannot remember what it is called.

_…leaves a trail of tidal pools in a short-lived galaxy / each microcosmic planet a complete society…_

Newt paces and winnows through his memory, becomes distracted, and swears harshly when he practically spears his sock-clad foot on an acrylic kaiju figurine. Under the bed it goes.

_…Wheels within wheels in a spiral array, a pattern so grand and complex..._

_…quantum leap forward in time and space / the universe learned to expand…_

“Oh shi—t,” he exclaims upon making the realization, smacking his palm to his forehead. “Rush. ‘Natural Science’. Duh.”

This happenstance sparks a plan into motion. He thinks it probably is one of his better plans, and more than anything he hopes it is something Hermann and he can enjoy together.

**=+=+=+=+=+=**

When Newt finally finishes cleaning the room, he takes a few seconds to marvel at the presence of an actual, factual floor that was hidden underneath all of the junk, and then fetches himself a well-deserved cup of blue gelatin from the mini fridge. He imagines that eating it might result in the growth of extra limbs and extra teeth, might make his irises glow.

A tapping knock sounds at the door, and Newt sucks his spoon into his mouth so he can free up one hand to answer it without setting down his snack. He swings the dense, metal door open and makes a happy sound at the person he finds on the other side of it.

Hermann has a backpack slung over one shoulder and his hair spikes up in damp, after-shower disarray, but perhaps best of all he wears the plushy knit sweater Newt gave to him last year, the one that is oversized and striped and perfect for all the ridiculous clothes layering Hermann likes to do.

Newt slurs a greeting around the metal of the spoon in his mouth. It is supposed to sound like ‘hello Hermann’, but what it actually sounds like is, “Hvvhv hvvhvv…”

“No manners as per usual, Doctor Geiszler.” Hermann grimaces and reaches to extract the spoon from Newt’s mouth at the same time as Newt reaches up to do so himself, if only so he can tell Hermann not to call him that.

This somehow results in Hermann bopping Newt on the nose, the spoon falling out of his mouth, and the cup of gelatin splattering to the floor when Newt attempts and fails to catch everything.

“Oh- oh noooo~” Newt falls to his knees dramatically. “Not the gello! It was so tasty and blue!” He fake-cries into his palms as if seriously mourning the loss of the snack.

Hermann does not even pretend to buy this. “You are insufferable,” he says matter-of-factly, and then, “You dropped it yourself,” when Newt continues to wail incoherently.

“I did not,” Newt protests, looking up and trying to appear teary but really kind of giggling. “You punched me in the face, ya big bully, _that’s_ why I dropped it.”

Hermann’s expression pinches in a way that Newt recognizes as indicative of withheld laughter. “That is a gross exaggeration.”

“Nuh-uh. It was 100% totally me opening the door, you punching me in the face, and then me dropping my delicious dessert because of that.”

He cannot hold it in anymore; Hermann begins to laugh. It is a sound that stutters and nearly sounds like wheezing or coughing, and that is so, wonderfully _Hermann_ that Newt’s stomach feels fluttery from hearing it. Alright, so, making Hermann laugh is definitely another one of Newt’s favorite parts of the day. Honestly, a great deal of his daily favorites have to do with Hermann, and he would not have it any other way.

Newt cleans up the blue mess on the floor, and Hermann settles into the swivel chair at the desk, leaning his cane against the wall. When Newt is done he unfolds a fraying lawn chair and sits at the desk himself, the pair of them side by side.

“I got us food.”

“It had better not be—”

“It’s pizza!” Newt announces, making jazz-hands in the air. Hermann sighs.

“In my humble defense, there wasn’t anything but that left really.” Newt adds.

As their evening meal progresses, Newt makes little “ick” and “bleh” noises with each and every jalapeno that he picks off of his slice of pizza. For added emphasis he also contorts his expression into every funny face that he can come up with.

“For goodness sake, you’re so wasteful.” Hermann scolds as he grabs a discarded jalapeno slice and pops it into his mouth like it is nothing.

Newt gapes at him.

“Are you a bird?” Newt asks. “Because that’s a lot of capsaicin, dude. Doesn’t your mouth hurt?”

“Not in the least. It’s called tolerance, Doctor Geiszler.”

“Or you being an alien.”

“I thought I was a bird.”

“Alien-bird then, smartass. And call me ‘Newt’ already!”

A compromise is made, one that entails Hermann receiving all of the jalapenos, and Newt getting to eat both pizza slices in exchange for preparing cup-ramen for him as well.

As Hermann has his dinner, he periodically scratches in a graph notebook with a pen. At first, Newt assumes that he is working through some sort of mathematical problem, jotting down theories and notes, the usual, but then he gets a glimpse of what actually is on the paper. For a second Newt baffles at the crisscrossing mess of lines covering both open pages, and then he discerns what it is.

“Woah, woah, woah!” His voice comes out overloud and high-pitched with excitement. “You’re making a maze, a _graph paper_ maze! I haven’t seen one of those in, like, over a decade.”

Hermann’s instant reaction is to cover the pages of his notebook with both hands, shooting Newt a look that is equal parts abashed and annoyed. “What are you talking about?” He attempts to deflect.

“Awwe don’t be like that. You know what I think?” He scoots closer, grinning broadly and not waiting for a response before continuing. “I think that graph paper mazes are hella cool, and that I totally want to have a go at running it when you’re done.”

Newt’s enthusiasm seems to unwind a bit of the tension within Hermann, and he uncovers the notebook slightly. “Well…” He considers, flickering his eyes down to the nearly completed maze thoughtfully. The bashfulness evaporates from his expression and is replaced by a sassy look, a teasing twist of his lips and glinting eyes. “I suppose it could be entertaining to witness you attempt it.”

By the time they finish all the food, the maze is finished as well, and it turns out that the maze does present some difficulty. Hermann was clearly not just messing around when he made it. Actually, on second thought, he probably was. Go figure that the product of Hermann _just messing around_ in idleness would be a complicated graph paper labyrinth.

Newt grumbles when he tracks his finger down a path into yet another dead end. He is about to accuse Hermann of not drawing a continuous route to the other side—even though that is not something Hermann would do and it would really just be an empty accusation for the purpose of initiating an argument—but Hermann has other ideas.

“What’s wrong, my love? Are you lost?”

Hermann whispers this right in Newt’s ear as he leans over in his chair, getting all up in Newt’s personal space. It would be charming, except Hermann sounds so sarcastic and full of it and he is definitely trying to be distracting _on purpose_.

“Don’t sound so cocky about your glorified doodle, Hermann,” Newt grumbles through his clenched teeth. “And I’m not lost. I’m taking my time.”

“Cocky am I? Well if that’s not a case of the pot calling the kettle black, then I don’t know what is.”

Newt keeps his eyes set on the maze, but he does not need to see Hermann to tell from the tone of his voice that he must be sneering and shaking his head in that infuriating, attractive way of his.

“Whatever, takes one to know one—”

“Which was precisely my point.” Hermann interrupts to clarify.

“Oh-ho!” This has Newt angling himself in the creaky lawn chair to face Hermann, their heads scant centimeters apart. “So you’re finally admitting to being the cocky bastard that you are? Damn, I never thought I’d see the day when prim and proper Hermann Gottlieb finally admits that—”

Hermann interrupts Newt again, but this time it is with the shy and sweet pressure of his mouth against his, and this definitely is a desirable turn of events. It is all Newt can do to not surge forward and smother Hermann like he had in the lab.

Newt likes the kind of kisses Hermann gives him. They are usually tentative, soft brushes of the lips, the sort of thing that transfers more static electricity than saliva. Newt by contrast is more of an aggressive kisser, and he currently summons massive amounts of willpower to hold still for Hermann’s cute little pecks.

A small shiver hurries through Hermann’s frame and he skims his hands up Newt’s arms and settles them onto his deltoids. His fingers clench convulsively, grasping the fabric of Newt’s shirt, and Newt can tell that he is already getting quite worked up. Hermann undoubtedly is accustomed to Newt’s usual fiery style of kissing, and is unused to being kept waiting like this. The thought of tenderly teasing him causes Newt’s heart to jump, and he decides to do just that, beginning to kiss Hermann back excruciatingly mellow. He also reaches out to grip the sides of Hermann’s midsection through the untold layers of clothing he wears, but instead of yanking him closer and curling their bodies around one another, Newt just holds him there.

It takes no time at all before Hermann impatiently wriggles in his chair and makes tiny noises he will never ever admit to. Right when he seems to have had enough of this and moves to deepen the kiss himself, Newt pulls away with a nonchalant smile.

Hermann actually _pouts_. “Stop teasing me, you unspeakable scamp.”

“What? Me teasing?” Newt pulls out the innocent card. “That was some A-plus snogging; I dunno what you’re talking about.”

“I will not hesitate to kick you out of this room.”

“Wait a sec. It’s my room, dude!”

“Have I given any allusion to caring that it’s your room?”

“Hah! I see how it is,” squawks Newt as he flails his hands in the air with mock exasperation. “First you punch me in the face, and then you kick me out of my own room! You _monster_.”

“…No one will ever believe you.”

Hermann utters this with such seriousness that it takes Newt a moment to realize that he is joking along with him.

“ _Damn_. That is sinister. I could get used to you sounding like an evil mastermind.” Newt leans in again, and brackets Hermann in by putting his hands on either armrest of his chair. “So tell me what it is that you want. All you gotta do is say it, and I’ll give it to you.”

An abashed flush creeps across Hermann’s cheeks, colors his neck, and disappears underneath the fuzzy collar of his sweater. With his wide-eyed look and his hair now dry but still unbrushed, Hermann seems more like a startled kitten than any evil mastermind. He opens his mouth, closes it, pursing lips that Newt longs to make kiss-swollen and red.

“You don’t have to be shy around me, Hermie baby.” Despite his flustered state, Hermann manages a glance towards the heavens at the sound of Newt’s silly pet name for him. “Hell I’ve said so many awkward things around you. So many.” Newt continues. “Liiike, do you remember that time in the lab last week when I was using part of a kaiju intestine to demonstrate a point, and I said—”

“Don’t-” Hermann puts up one of his hands, as if to physically deflect what Newt was about to say. “Some things are better said only once… Or not at all.”

“Alright, alright, but do you know what is better said more than once and definitely more than not at all?” Newt asks in a rush without so much as a pause to blink.

“Yes? What?” Hermann replies, actually sounding curious.

“How much I love you.” Newt puts his hands on Hermann’s shoulders and squeezes them affectionately, gazing right into his brown eyes. “Because I do love you. I love you a lot.”

Hermann lights up like fireworks on a crisp night. His sharp cheeks become rosier; his long-lashed eyes shine and sparkle; and a genuine, not-even-sarcastic, toothy smile breaks across his face. Then he says with an earnestness that makes every cell in Newt’s body sing, “I love you too, you beautiful, eccentric, sappy man.”

That does it. Newt cannot resist the sweet temptation of his lover any longer, not even to playfully tease him. His palms positively itch to grab, caress, and fondle; and his body thrums like a magnet seeking an opposing pole. Newt manages to temper his desires, but barely, just enough so that he does not jostle Hermann when he pulls him close again.

With his arms wound around him and his lips wet against the delicate shell of his ear, Newt whispers, “I can’t even wait for you to say what you want. I’ll give you everything. God…you deserve everything.”

Hermann reciprocates the embrace, wrapping his arms around Newt’s warm torso and hooking his fingers into the plush flesh of his waist. “It’s no matter,” he murmurs. “You know what I want already. You always know, you just— _hahh ah_ -”

Hermann gasps when Newt grazes the edge of his ear with his incisor teeth and then sucks on the lobe. Newt tongues the small bit of skin as Hermann arches into him, feeling the tiny bump of scar tissue from once upon a time when Hermann had his ears pierced (a story he stubbornly refuses to share).

Every twitch of Hermann’s hands over the curve of Newt’s hips and every breathy noise he makes cause little currents of delight to zing up and down Newt’s nerves. He relinquishes Hermann’s earlobe and scrabbles for the hidden hems of his clothing with a lustful urgency. Something between a groan and a sigh leaves his parted lips when he finally untucks Hermann’s shirts and achieves skin-on-skin contact with the slim, smooth stomach underneath. There is something lascivious about mussing up Hermann’s careful, polished layers of clothing, something that makes Newt’s blood run hot.

“You like it when I mess up your clothes to get at you like this?” Newt asks against Hermann’s neck, spreading his hands wide over his middle and pressing into him until he shudders. “You like looking like a mess for me, you hot, beautiful thing?”

“I must admit that—” Hermann interrupts himself with a squeak as Newt playfully dips one finger into his navel. “—that I spend an inappropriate amount of time imagining your hands on me.”

“Inappropriate, huh?” Newt pulls back to smirk at Hermann, keeping his hands still buried under his clothes. “Why, do you fantasize about me in the lab? Because that would be so fucking hot. I think about you in the lab all the time, and yeah I realize that’s hella unprofessional, but… You’re just such a stuck-up nerd when you’re not behind closed doors, a real prickly onion.” Hermann frowns at the jab and the revival of yet another pet name, but allows Newt to continue. “It’s like this stern, no-nonsense front you have, but I know your secret.”

Hermann knits his eyebrows together and his small frown morphs into more of a pout. “Please do tell, what might that be?”

“That a certain stuffy physicist actually enjoys getting his hair pulled and his ass grabbed.” Newt punctuates his statement with example. He cards one hand through the longer top part of Hermann’s hair before grasping the silky strands, and his other hand takes a less polite route down past his hip to caress his behind. “And that you only let _me_ do this to you.”

Hermann’s reaction to Newt’s ministration is immediate. His mouth falls open and his eyes drop halfway closed, and he grasps the soft sides of Newt’s waist so hard he almost yelps.

“My dear Newton,” Hermann begins, and there is that voice again, the one that is at once so haughty and so wrecked. “You have no idea what you do to me, darling.”

“You want to give me one, starstuff?”

“I’d like to show you.” Hermann leans forward, presumably to capture Newt’s mouth in a kiss, and forgetting the hand that leashes him by the hair. He lets out a pathetic whine as the tresses of hair pull taut to hold him in place, his eyelids fluttering closed and his brow furrowing from the feel of it.

“ _Mein gott,_ Newton. You know I’ve longed to kiss you all day.”

“Even when you were angry with me?”

“ _Especially_ when I was angry with you.” Hermann opens his eyes and glares a tad too fiercely for someone presently getting off from having his hair pulled. “However, if you don’t stop being a bloody cocktease, I’ll carry out my threat of ejecting you from this room.”

The combination of Hermann both breathless and cursing causes Newt’s dick to throb against the zipper of his damnably tight jeans. “Fuck, baby, my sweet kitten. I’ll give you anything you want, anything, anything.”

“I want to ride you, my love. I want to feel you under me.”

Newt damn near comes in his pants like a teenager right then and there. It is a miracle that he successfully finagles them both over to the bed and helps Hermann get his sweater off, revealing a nerdy T-shirt underneath.

“Hey now, are you really wearing a shirt that says ‘ _math is the only subject that counts_ ’? I dare you to wear that to our next staff meeting.”

“Absolutely not.” Hermann shuts the idea down in that straitlaced way of his, even with a hard-on. “Stop talking nonsense and kiss me.”

Newt does, maneuvering them until Hermann is comfortably splayed below him, gazing up with yearning eyes as Newt at last ensnares his mouth in an ardent kiss.

It is not long before their tongues tangle in each other’s mouths and the room fills with sloppy, wet sounds. Newt moans wantonly when Hermann sucks on his tongue and begins rubbing the hard, hot line of his cock against Newt’s pelvis. He reciprocates by snaking his hands up under Hermann’s shirts, finding and pinching his pebbled nipples.

Hermann whimpers and greedily presses into Newt’s touches, prompting him to momentarily break away to remove Hermann’s shirt and undershirt.

Newt starts on the buttons of his own shirt, and Hermann snags his wrists, saying, “Let me,” as he hastily undoes the buttons in record time.

Newt used to feel self-conscious of his body when they first started taking one another to bed. He may have a torso of radical tattoos, but was always aware that he is no model according to the status quo. Yet the way Hermann’s eyes dilated and his breath quickened whenever they divested clothing and made love slowly convinced him otherwise. How Hermann’s elegant hands swiftly go to fondle Newt’s waist and chest now borders on reverent.

“Newt, my Newton, my darling, I can’t get enough of you.” Hermann says as he presses his thumbs into Newt’s nipples and rubs until Newt pants helplessly. “When you left the lab I tried to get more work done, but all I could think of was how much I wanted to find you and ask you to fuck me.”

“Hermann, oh god, _Hermann_.” Newt scrunches his eyes shut, sure that he’ll come if he keeps looking at the handsome man beneath him, debauched with arousal and sharing such filthy musings. “If you keep talking like that I might not make it to that part.”

Hermann trails one of his hands down over the swell of Newt’s stomach, and then presses an open palm against Newt’s clothed erection hungrily.

“We can’t have that, can we dear?”

Okay, Hermann is without a doubt trying to kill him. By now, Newt is sure his cock could be listed on the Mohs hardness scale. Fortunately, in an act of mercy, Hermann removes his wayward hands to work on unbuttoning Newt’s jeans.

Newt has to stand up to shuck his jeans and underwear the rest of the way off. He sighs with relief when the chilly air of the room hits his heated flesh, and looks to see Hermann appraising the whole of his body with an expression equal parts awed and ravenous. With his shirts discarded, cheeks blushing the same color as his nipples, and hair swirling up in cowlicks, Hermann looks like the embodiment of Eros. It’s cheesy, but Newt furtively pinches his own thigh to ensure he isn’t dreaming.

“You’re so gorgeous, my love.” Hermann whispers. “So perfect, you drive me crazy.”

With that, Hermann reaches over and lightly traces Newt’s blood-reddened prick with his fingertips. “Come here,” he says.

Newt curses under his breath, “ _Fuck_ \- Hell, you don’t need to tell me twice,” and scrambles back on the bed and articulates his naked body atop Hermann’s, grinding their erections together through the cotton of Hermann’s trousers.

The small, sweet noises his boyfriend makes every time they thrust together in tandem cause Newt to feel pins and needles of delectable sensation from the crown of his head to the soles of his feet. Newt laves his tongue over the grooves of Hermann’s ear and sucks bruising kisses down his neck, stopping under his clavicles to give him a necklace of hidden hickeys. When Newt moves lower and latches his lips over one rosy nipple, Hermann hisses and bites his lower lip enticingly.

Newt redoubles his efforts, teasing the sensitive nub with his tongue whilst rolling the other between his fingertips. Early on in their sexual relationship, he rapidly picked up on the erogeneity of Hermann’s nipples. Lavishing his chest with attention never failed to have him panting and squirming. At the moment, Hermann goes from biting his lip to biting the knuckles of his fingers, muffling his increasingly desperate moans.

Ceasing his tender torment of his lover’s chest, Newt kisses his way along the constellation of moles on Hermann’s stomach as he surreptitiously undoes his trousers and pushes them and his underwear off his slender hips. He brushes over the juts of Hermann’s hipbones with his thumbs and takes in the vision of his now exposed cock, flushed a pretty crimson and leaking gleaming drops of precum.

Without much of a warning Newt licks up the underside of Hermann’s cock, lapping around the glans before taking the tip of it into his mouth. This action has Hermann immediately crying out and writhing under him, saying curses that are lost in the thick lilt of his accent.

Newt holds Hermann’s hips to the mattress when he tries to thrust upward into the warmness of his mouth. He takes his time working his lips over Hermann’s shaft, fully intending to drag this out.

“ _Fuck, Newt, I love your mouth._ ” Hermann rasps, abandoning English for the moment and speaking German. “ _You naughty thing, show me what your smart mouth can do._ ”

Newt hums his assent and tries to disregard the needy throb of his own neglected member at the sound of Hermann speaking their mother-tongue. He shifts his lips further over his lover’s cock, rubbing the flat of his tongue firmly along the underside and ignoring the burn at the back of his soft palate. In what Newt considers an impressive moment of multitasking, he also feels along the bed for the bottle of lube he kept handy. Once found, he coats his fingers in the slippery substance and returns one hand to Hermann’s hip, the other wandering to fondle his balls and perineum.

Hermann keens from the attention and thrusts up so abruptly Newt almost chokes.

“Newton- Newton-” He mewls, followed by a string of “Ah- Ah- Ah-” when Newt circles his most private place with his fingertip and then pushes inside up to his second knuckle.

Newt moves his finger in and out gingerly at first, then more vigorously as Hermann accommodates him. He hollows his cheeks around Hermann’s cock as he looks up at him through his eyelashes. Hermann is a lascivious vision. His kiss-bitten mouth is slack and panting, his bony chest sports a spectrum of fresh and old hickeys, and his lean stomach rises and falls with his gasping breaths. Hermann opens his eyes halfway and meets Newt’s heated stare.

“Look at you, _mein gott_ , Newt, just look at you- Ahh—ah-” Hermann fails to finish his sentences when Newt adds a second finger and gently scissors the two inside of him as he continues to tongue and suck Hermann’s cock.

Newt thrusts his fingers deep inside of Hermann and curls them, searching for the spot he knows will have his lover seeing stars. When Hermann’s voice breaks on a loud moan, Newt knows he has found it. Unrelentingly, he strokes his fingertips over the sensitized nerves of Hermann’s prostate, not letting up until Hermann’s groans transform into a litany of “Please, please, please, Newt, _please_.”

Newt releases Hermann’s engorged member from his mouth, a little drool escaping as well, and asks, “Are you ready for me, kitten? You wanna take that cute ass of yours and bounce on my cock?”

“Yes, please yes, my dearest.” Hermann’s voice sounds sultry and desperate, just the way Newt likes it.

“Okay, come here, let’s just…”

It takes some maneuvering and a couple extra pillows to make it work, but it is not long before Newt finds himself on his back propped up by a rolled up blanket, with Hermann above him focusing his attention on Newt’s throbbing erection.

“Well aren’t you precious,” says Hermann, squeezing some lube onto his own palm. “Sometimes I can’t believe I get to have you like this, can’t believe you’re all mine.”

“Yes, fuck- _Hermann!_ ” Newt exclaims as Hermann slides his lube-slick hand up and down his aching cock. “God yes, I’m all yours, baby. Only yours.”

Hermann takes Newt’s lube-slippery cock in hand, and straddles Newt’s waist, lining them up. “Are you,” Hermann swallows audibly, barely keeping himself together, eyes blown black from the expanded diameter of his pupils. “Are you ready, my love?”

Newt nods so fast his teeth clack together. “Please, Hermann, yes.”

Newt is the one seeing stars as Hermann eases down upon him, his cock disappearing into the heat of his lover inch by exquisite inch. Hermann breathes hard when he is fully seated, adjusting to the stretch. It is near agony to remain motionless, but Newt restrains himself, rubbing Hermann’s thighs and peppering his lovely face with kisses as he relaxes.

“You’re so good for me, baby.” Newt whispers whilst he touches Hermann’s back, ass cheeks, legs, anywhere he can reach. “So good, so beautiful and perfect. I love you.”

“I love you too, Newton.” Hermann replies, and then kisses him. He sucks on Newt’s lips and traces his teeth with his tongue, which Newt eagerly sucks into his own mouth. Hermann makes broken noises into their kiss and in his current state seems uncaring of the saliva escaping down his chin, or the lewd noises echoing off the walls. As they kiss, Hermann cautiously rises and falls on Newt’s cock inside of him, and they both groan in unison from the pleasure of it.

Hermann breaks the kiss and stabilizes his hands on Newt’s tattooed chest for more leverage, and then he raises himself up until Newt’s erection nearly leaves his body, before slowly easing back down until his ass hits Newt’s pelvis again.

This has Newt moaning free and wanton; there’s no way he cannot be heard from the hallway but he doesn’t care. His world has narrowed down to just one person, his precious lover spearing himself so prettily on his hard cock, throwing his head back and exposing his long, pale neck and keening as he rises up and down again.

When he is sure that it will not cause Hermann pain, Newt begins thrusting up to meet each of his movements, angling himself just right in order to bestow the most pleasure to the other. He can confirm that he has done well when Hermann’s moans and cries grow more pointed and he begins chanting, “Yes, Newt, yes, yes, there- don’t stop- yes”.

There is nothing like seeing Hermann, prim and proper Hermann Gottlieb, positively loose and shameless like this. Here he is, the uptight man who unironically wears sweater-vests and never leaves home without a scientific calculator and a notebook, taking Newt’s cock in his hot ass like he was made to do it, and his own cock leaking pearly precum between them as he loses himself to bliss. There is not a thing in the universe that Newt would deny him, he wants to give Hermann this much happiness every day, whenever and however he likes.

The salacious sounds of flesh smacking flesh each time he fucks into his lover spur Newt on, as do Hermann’s encouragements and wandering hands. Hermann touches Newt everywhere. His hands skim up Newt’s obliques and fondle his soft stomach, he thumbs the pink nubs of Newt’s nipples and traces his tattoos, he feels the ridges of muscle in Newt’s arms and trails up and down his trachea through the skin of his neck. Lastly, tender and adoring, Hermann strokes Newt’s face with the pads of his fingers, gazing down at him like he is a brand new theory for quantum mechanical gravity.

“I love you.” Hermann leans down and presses their foreheads together. “I love you so- so much.”

“I love you too.” Newt smiles. “Don’t ever- ahh- forget that.”

Newt drags his hands up Hermann’s sweat-sticky back and cradles his head as he tilts his chin up for a messy kiss. He feels delicious tension accumulating within him, knows he cannot forestall orgasm for much longer. Newt can tell Hermann must be getting close too, if the erratic way he grinds down on Newt’s hips is any indication.

“Ohh sweetheart, you feel so good.” Newt murmurs into their kiss. “Please tell me you’re close- I can’t-”

“Yes, yes, I am- just- _faster_!”

The concept of refusing any requests from his beloved is completely out of the question for Newt in the haze of their mutual passion. Newt complies wordlessly, snapping his hips up into Hermann’s willing body quick and deep. As their rutting together grows more frantic and staggered, Newt’s hand drifts down and curls around Hermann’s cock, jacking him off with expert flicks of his wrist. All manner of sounds push their way from Hermann’s throat, most notably Newt’s name.

Hermann arches his spine when he comes hot and thick between them, painting Newt’s torso with streaks of white. Newt strokes him through it as Hermann trembles and convulses around him. Every time Newt watches Hermann orgasm, within his own rapture at the sight a memory surfaces: the last time he dared swim in the ocean, years ago. He remembers the coral reefs, the diversity of species, but mostly the vastness, the milieu of mystery. With Hermann in his arms, Newt feels he fathoms such vastness more now than he did then, somehow…

Twice, thrice more Newt thrusts into Hermann’s divine heat, and then he too loses himself in the frissons of pleasure that repeatedly rush his nerves like waves on a beach as his orgasm electrifies him and his cock pulses deep inside of his lover. Together they come down from the endorphin-high, and Hermann slumps into Newt’s welcoming arms. For a while they just hold one another in their sea of blankets and pillows, breathing the same air, osmosing the sweat and come between them, which should be objectively gross but Newt only feels content. Judging by Hermann’s loose muscles and tranquil demeanor, he feels the same.

A slip of movement against Newt’s neck where Hermann rests his head catches Newt’s attention, along with hushed words.

“D’you say something?” Newt inquires sleepily.

“Just…” Hermann trails off. “ _For small creatures such as we, the vastness is bearable only through love_.”

Newt smiles knowingly. “Carl Sagan?”

“Yes, the quote came to mind.” Hermann hugs Newt tighter. “I want you to know, you make things bearable for me, just by being you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song(s) mentioned: ‘Pretty Vacant’ by The Sex Pistols, ‘Natural Science’ by Rush
> 
> Aw geez, now yall know how sappy I am.
> 
> Capsaicin is the component in peppers that causes them to taste spicy and deliver a burning sensation. Jalapenos actually do not have much capsaicin when compared to other peppers. In general, birds are known to be unaffected by capsaicin, unlike mammals are.
> 
> If you’re interested in tumbling down the quantum physics rabbit hole, I suggest searching for ‘theory of everything’, ‘quantum gravity’, and ‘antimatter/antiparticles’. It’s cool stuff, as an undergrad physics major I recommend it. (If you do give it a go, tell me what flavor of quark you identify with lol.)
> 
> I am ApostateDreams on Tumblr, though I have not been active there recently, and I am Variante7 on Instagram, where I am more active.

**Author's Note:**

> [end notes to appear here upon posting chapter three]


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